Mother's Gifts
by Glimare
Summary: Or Twelve Days They Never Speak About Around the Old Ones, Except the Last Part. ONE SHOT: In which Talia sends unusual gifts, Damian eagerly takes them, Bruce is frustrated, the manor gets crowded, and everyone else laughs. Challenge response from Bludhaven. T for Jason


_**Disclaimer:**_Me no own, ya got that Mr. lawyer man?! Me no own!

This was kinda a challenge sent out for a group I just joined. It was lots of fun so I did it. Everyone, the twelve days of Christmas, Bat-style! it's all clumped together because I just finished it and the challenge came out this past week. =P The Or title was something I wanted to try since Wrede's _Sorcery and Cecilia OR the Enchanted Chocolate Pot_

* * *

_**Mother's Gifts**_

_(Or Twelve Days They Never Speak About Around the Old Ones, Except the Last Part)_

**Day 1**

"What the hell is that?" Damian scowled at the strange package that appeared in Wayne Manor's foyer. Well it wasn't a package, but he still had to sign for it. Bruce wasn't home and Alfred was busy preparing for a party scheduled to take place there on Christmas Eve, so he had to handle the delivery.

The UPS guy just smirked, as if it were a big inside joke. "I believe it's a pear tree."

"And what is that thing in it?" He could hear the cooing of a bird.

"A partridge."

Damian shifted his scowl to the man. "Who sent this?"

"Well, certainly not your true love." When the kid didn't laugh or lighten up, he looked at the paperwork. "A 'Talia Head'. Paid in full. Sign here."

At the woman's name, the kid's eyes lit up in surprise. '_Mother?_' Hastily he put his signature on the page and took the receipt so he could be alone with his mother's gift. The man smiled and tipped his hat to the boy.

"Merry Christmas," he cheerfully stated as he walked out the door.

It only brought a scowling confused look to his face as he analyzed the gift more. "What's so merry about it?"

* * *

**Day 2**

Dick was just dropping by to see if he could pester Alfred into telling him what the 100% official Waynes wanted for Christmas. He was not expecting to hear cooing. Gingerbread cookie in his mouth, he investigated where the sound was coming from. His munchy nearly fell out as he stared at the cage in the parlor. Two perfectly white birds were sitting in it merrily. Thing was, they weren't there last time he visited. And that was three days ago.

"What the..."

"I see you've met Aphrodite and Adonis." Damian walked in from behind, carrying a book about birds under his arm. Titus trotted in behind him. The young man just gaped at him.

"Aphrodite and Adonis?" He heard some chirping and jerked his head around to another corner. Was that a pear tree?!

"And that would be Willis. He's a partridge."

That made him look between the boy, the birds, and their respective perches very quickly. Seriously?! "Um... did Bruce buy them?"

"No. Mother sent them." There was a slight air of pride in his voie, making Dick fight hard to control what was coming out his mouth.

"Which came first?" He had to know. Before he made any assumptions, he had to know what came first.

Damian pointed to the tree. "Willis. He came yesterday."

He fought to keep his mouth from twitching as he pointed to the golden cage keeping two birds at bay. "Those wouldn't be turtle doves would they?"

"Yes..." The boy frowned at him, curious. "Grayson, why are you smiling?"

And he was trying so hard not to too. Who knew Talia had a sense of humor? He patted his baby brother on the head, grinning. "I'll tell you in eleven days. No, ten. That's if we get another fowl package tomorrow."

The kid scoffed as he pushed the hand away. "They are not addressed to you. Nor I. They're addressed to Father."

"I have no doubt," Dick stated, suppressing a snicker as he turned to leave. "After all, he is her 'twue wove'."

* * *

**Day 3**

"It is not funny Master Richard." A very grumpy Alfred glowered as three cages containing French hens were placed in the front entryway. Dick was laughing his head off not too far away. He stayed the night and all that day just to see this happen. Damian was busy with his lessons so he couldn't accept the package this time, so it fell to the two of them.

"Are you kidding me?!" The acrobat could hardly contain himself. Everything was going onto his phone so he could send the video to Babs and Tim. The two of them would send it to others who'd see the humor with him. A plan was already formulating in his head. He knew what he was getting Bruce now. "This is hysterical! We should so do the twelve days after just to irk her!"

"You are not setting a good example to Master Damian." The old man signed the delivery slip, sending a glare at him. "His first real Christmas with his father should be a joyful occurrence, not this... mockery."

"Actually," the delivery guy started, also laughing, "I thought it was really clever. Are you talking about the Ex-lady of the house?"

"Close enough." Dick flashed the guy a grin as he started texting to certain birds out there. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas."

With the delivery done, the butler looked at the cages, pondering what to do with these birds. "Master Damian absolutely cannot know about these."

"'Fraid he'll name them too and keep them?" He was chuckling even before Alfred nodded. Despite the kid's tough exterior, he as a sucker for animals. "Yeah, at this rate he'll be making this place a zoo. What happened to 'Bat-Cow' anyway? He get turned into leather or steak yet? Or is Dami still on that vegan kick?"

"Remember when you became a vegetarian for a few months?"

For a brief moment Dick cringed. Count on Alfred to bring up a phase he wished he could forget. The craving for a hamburger was so strong after a month he quit. He just didn't tell the old man until much later. "I only started because of a disgusting documentary at school."

"Well," the butler continued, making his point, "we will know if it is a true lifestyle change or not in the coming year, without any help from the peanut gallery. And about these hens..."

* * *

**Day 4**

Bruce cracked his neck, sore and tired from several days and nights in a row of running rooftops and evading bullets. He hadn't been home or talked to his kids in near a week. Only a brief message to Alfred here and there confirmed whether he was alive until early that morning. Before dawn early. Now it was early evening and he was eager to have dinner at a real table, sitting in a real chair, before escaping to his cave to update his files.

One case closed and Bruce Wayne needed to be visible the next couple weeks in order for his identity to remain good. It'd help his body recuperate too, something he largely ignored unless Alfred put him in lockdown. That man really knew what to do to stop him sometimes.

Passing the parlor to reach the dinner table, he heard a variety of bird sounds. The man stopped mid-step and turned, scowling. Did Damian have any lessons involving bird calls in his schedule? Or had Dick pulled a prank on him again? He gently pushed open the parlor door and poked his head in. The room smelled foul. And of fowl.

Four birds were in one large cage, almost perfectly in tune with each other. Two white ones in a golden cage not too far away from them also cooed at him, doves. And was that a pear tree in the corner? With a partridge? "DICK!"

"What?!" The young man was coming from the stairs, phone in hand and some bandages on his hand from the previous night. He had helped pull him out of a scrape, quite literally. As thankful as Bruce was for that, he wasn't pleased about the aviary being made in his parlor. All the man had to do when the guy came in sight was scowl and point into the room where the birds were.

For a long moment Dick just looked at him then at the room then back again. Donning came to his face, then a broad grin. "Oh that. Believe me, that was not my idea. At all."

Watching Dick for a long moment, his adoptive father decided to believe him. The lad's tell wasn't showing at least. "Then who's?"

The grin grew wider as he pointed back to the room. "Take another look inside. Count how many there are. Oh, and yesterday there were three _French_ hens sent over. Alfred and I managed to hide them before Damian saw them. The foursome was today's delivery."

"French hens..." Bruce looked back inside and counted, identifying each bird. Donning came to him within moments. "Son of a-"

"Ah ah ah! Language! Santa's watching you!" Dick's chiding finger only made Bruce roll his eyes. He would use the Santa excuse on him. "And just so you know, the one who sent everything is a non-bat female. Alfred has the invoices. Shall we have dinner? I hear it's chicken."

His father gave him a weary look, giving up a bit. Just what he needed. An annoying mystery during his forced upon him vacation. Shaking his head he moved on. "Chicken. Sounds nice. So, what's Damian having? And just what day are you looking forward to more? Eight, nine, or tomorrow?"

* * *

**Day 5**

Tim was looking over each of the five gold rings with every tool in the Batcave, not believing for a moment there wasn't an ulterior motive to this. "The birds could just be an annoyance, but these rings? Why give out five gold rings unless there was a foul reason behind it?"

"Okay, enough with the bird jokes," Dick insisted, sporting a horribly designed Christmas sweater and hoping Tim would break down and wear the one he bought him. "We've heard them far too long."

"Too tempting." The teen stretched his back, sick of being over microscopes and work benches. He's been at this since ten when he arrived at the manor just ten minutes after the package arrived. "I've got nothing scientifically. I'd advise having a magical expert look them over before doing anything with them and keeping these things out of sight until after the holidays. For all we know, they could be intended to be identifiers for targets when the assassins strike."

"You really think she'll send assassins?" The two had been bouncing ideas off of each other's heads since the text he sent to him inviting him back over for Christmas. The strange packages were just incentive. Cass said she'd try to make it over as soon as she could and Jason promised he'd help Alfred with their bird problem soon if it kept going. Barbara and Stephanie said they'd drop by later if they got a chance, same with half the Birds of Prey. Everyone was going to be at the party on Christmas Eve.

Tim gave him his are-you-really-asking-me-that look before explaining. "Seventeen women, ten men, and twenty-three unknowns generally believed to be men are on the list. Grand total of fifty individuals to expect that we don't know personally. Is it really that hard to believe they're going to be assassins? This is Talia we're dealing with."

Dick threw up his hands, giving in. "Okay okay, we're on red alert in three days. And beware the gold rings. One of them may rule them all, only to turn you invisible and into a crack addict."

That won him a short laugh from his brother. He grinned triumphantly. Getting him to laugh was easier than Bruce, but keeping him from falling into depression was harder. "Glad you could make it home."

"Glad I could make it at all." A thought struck Tim's mind. "Hey, what happened to the French hens?"

His older brother grinned wolfishly. "They were tasty."

* * *

**Day 6**

"Popcorn?" Dick offered, his eyes on the screen.

"Yes please," Tim answered automatically, reaching for the cheese covered section.

"Dude, are you always this polite with junk food?" Jason murmured as he crunched a caramel one.

"Force of habit." Tim popped a few kernels into his mouth, enjoying the tin Jason brought with him.

The three of them were watching Alfred and Damian chasing geese around the manor on the security cameras, safe within the cave below. Bruce had conveniently scheduled a series of meetings at his day job so he wouldn't be available to help. The first three Robins though took refuge in the cave and sealed it shut before that day's package arrived. Those two were on their own as soon as the kid opened the crate in curiosity. It was a hoot to watch.

"Alfred has trained you well," Dick murmured, wincing in sympathy as a goose bit Damian's outstretched hand. That was going to smart.

"Not well enough to save their hides though." Jason grinned evilly, leaning back in Bruce's chair with his feet on the consol. He felt bad that Alfred had to chase them down, but they were going to make it up to him tomorrow. Besides, it taught that cheeky brat a lesson.

Tim felt the same. Hence why he invited the rogue over to watch the show, provided he brought unhealthy food they could never get otherwise. Damian was the one getting the brunt of the geese attack mostly because he wasn't listening to his elders. He was chasing the silly things in circles. "Don't worry. Backup will be arriving soon. But we have to get her a copy of this and have her here for tomorrow's target practice. That's our deal. As soon as her goose research is done, she'll be saving Alfred."

"And here I thought you liked her..." Dick winced again as Damian tried again to grab one of the geese from the front. It was a very poor tactic to use.

"I do," the teen admitted. "It's just... Wait a minute... why aren't you helping the demon? We have our reasons, what's yours?"

"Ooo... burn..." Jason grinned, enjoying seeing those who were supposedly 'good' getting into a row. Didn't happen very often but it usually was about Damian when it did.

Looked like he wasn't about to give in though this time. "Dami needs to learn to listen to others, especially Alfred. And he had to realize that some animals just can't be turned into pets. The birds are really stinking up the place. This is a learning experience, that's all. That and I really don't like geese. Noisy little biters..."

"At least they taste good."

"That they do." Grins spread across their faces, enjoying the show and eating holiday popcorn in peace.

* * *

**Day 7**

"NO! You cannot kill them!" Damian stomped his feet as he argued his point to the others. Dick had hoped a walk with Titus would last longer than half an hour, not five minutes. It was hardly enough time to gathers all six geese and seven swans in the same room where it was acceptable to spill a little blood. Jason was getting a little antsy while the kid threw his hissy fit, thinking about aiming his gun at him, and his older brother could tell. "They are mine!"

"Please tell me he didn't name them," Tim groaned, looking over to Stephanie. She glared at him, still a bit peeved she was declared 'backup' the previous day. More like babysitter. At least she could laugh about how they had to live with all those birds. Dick promised her a golden ring or two if everything checked out after Christmas with them.

"Name them? He gave them pedigrees!" She took out a sharp batarang. "I tried to get him to call them something a bit more practical, like 'Lunch', 'Dinner', 'Flambé!' and all that, but did he listen? No! Now can we just kill these birds and get to cooking? I told my mom I'd get her a nice goose."

"Damian," Dick started, trying to reason with the kid, "we can't keep them."

"They're mine!" The boy repeated, insisting darkly. He almost looked like a normal kid during his tantrum.

"I thought your mom sent them to her 'true love'," Jason jibed. He wanted this over with, also promised a bird to eat on his own later.

"Father doesn't care about them! I do!" He turned his desperate gaze back to the oldest bird. "You said caring and compassion was important!"

Guilt ate away at Dick's insides. The kid just had to turn his own words against him. All the birds between them looked at the ceiling, internally groaning at the concept while he whimpered. Alfred pinched his brow in the corner, already seeing the end game. "Dami..."

"We don't kill! That's what you've said from the beginning! You and father and Drake and Fatgirl!"

"HEY!"

"Were you lying to me?!"

"I wasn't lying." Dick tried to swing it his way while Tim kept his sorta-ex from pounding the little cretin. "I was talking about people."

"They're people too!" Damian waved over to the geese and swans, pleading for their lives.

His brother winced while the rest rolled their eyes one more. Just what they needed, an animal activist. As if Poison Ivy the environmentalist wasn't bad enough. "We're talking humans then. We don't kill humans."

"Kent isn't human!"

"Humanoids then."

"Like we need the brat's permission to kill some quacks," Jason murmured, and for once everyone agreed with him. Couldn't they just shove him out the door and take care of the deed without him?

"What makes humanoids more important than anyone else?!" Damian's shouting almost won over the soft hearted acrobat. Almost.

Sighing, Dick knelt before him and tried to reason with him another way. "Damian, the manor wasn't meant to house large birds like these. We aren't equipped to handle them and we're not going to be. You've seen how Alfred can't take care of them all and you don't have the time to do it either. None of us do. Their wings are clipped so we can't set them free. This is the only thing we can do for them."

"Kill them?!" The lad really looked distressed by the idea. That time last year they wouldn't think he was capable of feeling like this and insisting something lived. They really had gotten through to him, at least for animals. "Is that all we can really do?! We're supposed to be heroes!"

"There is always the zoo," Alfred offered, trying to put an end to this. They all looked at him, some wondering why he hadn't said so earlier. Others were frustrated that their reason for being there was being neatly thwarted. They wanted goose and wanted to try swan. "They could use a charitable donation."

"We'll do that!" Damian perked up immediately, seemingly excited to get to work on saving the birds. "Don't you dare kill them off Grayson! I have work to do!"

Quickly the boy ran out of the room to start making arrangements. The rest turned on Alfred and Dick, glaring at them in frustration. Jason hefted his shotgun, not at all amused. "What's the flippin' deal Dickhead? I thought we were having goose and swan at the party."

"I... uhh..." For once he was speechless, no answer whatsoever. Alfred though saved him.

"We are. No zoo, petting or otherwise, is going to take these birds at this time of year. Master Bruce and I discussed this last night and devised a backup plan should Master Damian object so vehemently." A sly smile graced his face. "The only person he will be getting in contact with will work for Wayne Enterprises who's in on the scheme. They're only going to make it easier on everyone. Once dinner is gathered up and taken to another location, the four of you are still in charge of preparing them for cooking."

Impish grins grew on their faces. What Damian didn't know wouldn't hurt him. Only Dick was feeling upset about the plan. "I dunno if that's a good idea. I feel really bad tricking him like this."

"Do you remember that pig Mr. Kent gave us when you were nine?" Alfred pointed out randomly, confusing the conflicted man.

"Porky?"

A dark smirk appeared on his face. "You didn't take care of him properly and I told you he ran away. Truth be told..."

"We ATE HIM?!"

"You forgot about him." A matter of fact tone stayed within the butler's voice, making the other Robins grin. "What else was I supposed to do with a neglected pig?"

* * *

**Day 8**

Bruce paced the foyer floor, waiting nervously for that day's delivery. If he knew right, and he was sure he was, the next few days would bring people to his door. Lots of people. Truth be told, these deliveries were unsettling and he was having each bird tested for hidden 'gifts' before anyone was allowed to digest them. So far everything sent over was on the up and up. So far.

The UPS guy was late. That or Talia hadn't figured out how to send 'eight maids' by crate yet.

Jason, Tim, and Dick were in the other room, forcing Damian to endure several Christmas specials. Jason objected at first but managed to be conned into helping because it annoyed the youngest bird so much. Plus Alfred was providing them with popcorn to throw at each other all throughout it. Secretly everyone was waiting to see what was coming next. Stephanie and Barbara would have been there too if they weren't picking up Cassandra from the airport. His house would be very full of people he cared about (for once) this Christmas.

Pushing that thought aside (because it overwhelmed him when he thought of it, since it never happened before), Bruce checked his watch. Nearly dinner time. What was taking it so long to get there? Wasn't there supposed to be-

The doorbell rang and instantly he could hear his boys leaping to their feet and rushing to different positions in order to fight, if needed. Damian was the only one who was darting past all of them in anticipation of a new gift. His father had to grab his arm to keep him still while Alfred answered the door. "Wayne residence. Do you have an appointment?"

"Actually," a French female voice could be heard just past the old man, "we're here about the job opening."

That made the onlookers blink. Job opening? "Pardon?"

They peeked around the old man and spotted eight young ladies in... traditional maid attire. The first one spoke again. "Yes, we were told an event was going on here in the next few days that required eight genuine maids."

"You think they're assassins?" Dick muttered to Tim not too far away.

"You think they're available?" Jason joked.

* * *

**Day 9**

Cass' flight was delayed, a full day. She had to take a taxi in order to get to Wayne Manor, much to her chagrin. Everyone else was unavailable because of their day to day lives. And someone had to keep an eye on those maids that Alfred gladly started using to spruce up the house for the party. Tim and Bruce were still convinced someone in that group was an assassin, if not all.

Sighing in her cab, she couldn't help but note she was following someone else accidentally. A large motor pool van. They were both headed to the manor and easily came through the gate. Security being lax because of expected deliveries and party preparations there was to be expected. Who knew who was really coming and going. Bruce's nerves must have been on edge the entire time.

The Asian girl watched the van pull up and parked in front of the manor, quickly unloading. Nine very thin ladies somewhere between hers and Barbara's ages came out of the vehicle and approached the manor door. If she was remembering everything Stephanie told her in their last conversation, they were expecting nine women that day, if the pattern was holding. Looked like it was.

"Fifty-seven twenty-eight," the cabbie stated flatly, not caring about what happened inside that place. She gave him a sidelong look before taking out three twenties and grabbing her duffle bag. She liked traveling light. Once she was out, the cab darted off and she was left looking at the suspicious group.

Each of them were athletic, stronger than they appeared, but also seemingly delicate. Their tight clothes were both fine quality and well worn. And they seriously needed a few good meals. None of them were carrying weaponry on their person, and only one of them even knew how to use a gun (callouses). They could be dangerous, or they could just be dancers.

Alfred opened the door to them and sighed heavily, not waiting for an explanation. "I am so sorry, but we have no need for any more maids."

"We're not maids." The tallest of them took the lead, a Bulgarian accent making her hard to understand. "We're half the Rose Ends' Dance Company. We were asked to come here and perform Christmas Eve, and we need to practice before the event. We signed a contract and everything."

The butler stiffened. "Half?"

"Yes. Our partners and manager will be here tomorrow." She looked around him expectantly. "We were told lodging would be provided."

He gave a long suffering sigh. "I believe the guest house is available, if you do not mind sharing rooms and beds."

"We've performed in worse conditions," one of the ladies in the back murmured, her Australian accent clear as day. Cass raised an eyebrow at the girl, staying to the side of the staircase so as not to be counted among them. Watching and waiting was too fun. No wonder Stephanie was so eager to share the news. Tim's updates were a bit dry in compare, but he did make sure she was in on the joke.

"If you would follow me." Without missing a beat, the infallible butler turned about and led the nine dancers into the building. Cass followed after, closing the door with a smirk.

She stopped short of following them through the building to the guest house to look in on the parlor that was apparently turning into an aviary. Tim wasn't kidding. Damian had a thing for animals, but he wasn't really good at taking care of them. The cages needed cleaning. Badly.

"Cass!"

She jerked her head around just in time to see Tim rushing over to her, grinning. His smile made her smile as well. It was becoming rare to see it those days, and she remembered a time when he didn't smile at all. Dark times for everyone, but it hit him the worst. "When did you get in?"

Her smile grew a little. She knew he wanted to give her a hug in greeting, but he held off because neither of them were that accustomed to that habit. She always did like Tim. "Just now. Nine dancers came just before me. Followed them in."

"Ah. Talk about good timing." He offered a helping hand to her bag. "Need help finding your room? We never did get around to you picking one after the adoption."

She waved a hand for him to lead. The Robin she knew best nodded, understanding how she spoke better than most. "Steph said she was keeping you updated on the good stories going on around here, but is there anything you want me to tell you before Dick starts talking your ear off? Oh, and remember, to him hugs are like handshakes. He'll give you one whether you want it or not. Please don't break his ribs this time. Damian already cracked three of them after he hinted that he ate the French hens."

* * *

**Day 10**

Jason was seriously debating throwing popcorn at the eighteen dancers on the ground floor practicing their performance, just to see what they'd do. Their manager was such an ass, throwing his weight around everywhere and trying to turn Alfred into his personal valet, that they were coming up with clean, untraceable methods of ridding the world of him. Damian even offered to show the man his collection of knives, but Dick overruled him. The performers weren't much better.

"We want to scare them," the first bird stated flatly, stringing some of the popcorn that was becoming popular among them into a garland. Nearly all the bat-kids were sitting against or on the banister overlooking the large room the dancers were working in, keeping an eye on them. And being bored. With eight maids (who after a thorough background check proved to be just maids) running around the manor helping Alfred with the party prep, the cave was practically shut down. They had to go to the bunker to do any bat-work. Annoying. "Not kill them."

"What about setting fire to their stuff?" Tim was stringing the other end of the garland, mainly because Dick would not give him back his computer(s) unless he did something traditionally Christmas-y. Sad part was, he was actually getting into making this thing. Damian was attempting to make one on his own just a few feet off. "That'll make them leave."

"Or find a way to kill all of us." Jason hung his arms and legs through the railing, wishing they weren't wasting food like that. Course, he remembered making garlands like those as a kid so he wasn't about to say anything. "Bruce and Babs done with those background checks yet?"

"Getting there." Tim gave Dick a slight scowl. "Course it would go faster if I was helping them."

"You need more family time," Dick insisted. That long garland they were working on was nearly done. "Besides, Cass and Steph wouldn't stick around if you weren't here."

"Oooo... Lady's man eh?" Jason teased, smirking over to the two ladies that decided to stick around. Stephanie was teaching Cassandra how to make paper garlands as well. Dick was insisting they have a poor kid Christmas tree in the entertainment room, so they had to make all the decorations themselves. Glitter covered batarangs, wingdings, bottle caps, and cut out snowflakes were inside a nearby box. They were going to bully Bruce into taking Damian tree shopping that evening, and he had to get a cheap ugly one. The kid was going to get a Christmas they all had before becoming part of the bat-clan.

Dick laughed while Tim growled at him, blushing. "It's not like that."

"No kidding." Steph shot Jay a knowing smirk, looping one red strip with a green one. "Timmy's so clean he sparkles. We just like talking to someone who has manners and hasn't been with Babs."

"Ooo... Burn!" Dick winced, laughing at himself. "Didn't think having a relationship with Barb would be a turn off. What could I have possibly done to be counted as annoyance?"

"You talk too much."

Cass' quick rebuttal sent Jason, Tim, and Steph into rows of laughter. Damian fought to smother a smile, pretending to be listening intently to his iPod as he worked on his string. The oldest pouted, wishing they weren't so harsh on him. So He liked to talk. So what? They liked to listen, usually.

"She got you there pretty boy." Jason licked a caramel covered popcorn and dropped it over the edge, letting it land on one of the 'lords' hair. That was going to be fun to get out later. "Timbo's quiet. You're not. You always have to beware the quiet ones."

"Oh zip it." Dick put on the last cheese covered one and tied off his string. "Back to taking down the Rose Ends Troupe and getting a rogue free Christmas-"

"Can't we just get Clark to come in and have him clap his hands really loud? Or maybe he could interview them." The rogue bird's comment made them smirk. "A bad review may make them leave. But only after I get a shot with that Greek chick. Damn she's hot."

"Tt. Taken in by a female who could slit your throat at any time while you sleep." Sarcasm dripped from Damian's lips, looking over his garland for a minute to decide if it was done. "Brilliant Todd."

"Well, looks like the girl's garlands are almost done." Dick grinned to them, taking out some smaller boxes. "Who's up for decorating candy cane ornaments!"

* * *

**Day 11**

"They're still dancing." Tim glared out the parlor door, waiting for the next delivery to arrive while keeping the birdboys company as they cleaned the cages (Alfred refused to do them on a matter of principle).

"Of course they are!" Dick carefully rolled up the paper they slid out of the calling bird cage, cringing at the mess. Damian was working on the doves. "They want to get everything perfect for the party tomorrow night."

"They're going to eat us out of house and home." The teen scowled, thinking out loud. "I don't know how we're going to handle the twenty-one yet to come."

"How are you certain there are twenty-one more people coming?" Damian tossed the paper he was working with into a small garbage bag, chewing on a thought. No one, not even Father or Pennyworth would explain what was going on. Some big secret of theirs.

"We'll tell you tomorrow before bed," Dick promised. "Then we'll talk about the days after Christmas."

"I.E. Our revenge plan for your mother."

That earned Tim a glare from both of them. "It is not a revenge plan we'll be following. It's just some funny options if they were available. So far there's nothing warranting revenge on her. Everyone's checked out, Zatanna's said the rings are just rings, and every one of these birds are healthy and safe. She could just be trying to be involved with Damian's first Christmas here."

"I still do not see the relevance of this holiday," Damian stated. This made his brothers stop and look at him in surprise. He continued on, getting I-don't-want-to-believe-what's-coming-out-of-your-mouth-but-it's-probably-true looks from both of them the entire time. "All it is, is a celebration of the winter solstice with some red suited, fat man myth flying around the world as incentive to have children behave. And half the time the child never gets what they want anyway."

The older birds just continued to gape at him in disbelief before looking at each other. Clearly they were thinking of how he did not have a normal childhood and therefore missed out on something vital. They shared that look when they were talking about his lack of birthday cake all his life before. He raised a disgruntled eyebrow at them. "What?"

"Oh boy."

"We've seriously got some work to do."

"Bruce and Alfred should have covered it with him by now."

"You'd think with all that education he'd have learned about a very famous Christian holiday."

"You should have seen him on Halloween."

"Tell me, what do you think Easter's about? And don't say rabbits and eggs."

Damian scowled at the two of them, making less sense with every sentence. "What are you ingrates rambling about?"

Just before a fight, argument, or very involved discussion, the doorbell rang. Instantly the three of them bolted from the room to the door. Tim had his staff in hand, ready to extend. Dick's escrima sticks were tucked in his sweater sleeves. Damian's knives were exactly where they always were, all over his person, but unlike them he wasn't ready for a fight. He wanted to know who and what his mother sent next! They passed by Cass and Jason coming out of the kitchen, neither armed but both quite willing to fight when called upon. Bruce and Alfred were already at the door, opening it.

"Hello! I'm with the Geliefde Ensemble. I was hoping to see where we would be performing tomorrow night? And if we had to bring our own chairs." A portly man with a Dutch accent presented his hard to Alfred, along with some paperwork. After a quick look over, he passed the papers over to Bruce who analyzed it carefully. Tim was soon at his side, stuffing his extending staff away and wishing he brought his iPad instead. The man looked back at them in confusion in the doorway. "Am I late in presenting myself? Or is this an American custom I don't' know about?"

After a moment, the butler smiled and let him inside. "My apologies. Security is a priority here. We were not... very clearly informed about your arrival. We expected... Eleven men with pipes."

The man laughed. "Eleven pipers? You people are very odd indeed."

"They're a woodwind ensemble." Bruce huffed out in frustration, looking over to the others. Half of them looked ready to laugh at a moment's notice. "He's their conductor. The group has ten players."

Jason gaffed and turned away, grinning from ear to ear. "Wow! Talia sure knows how to work it! Wonder what she'll do about the drums!"

* * *

**Day 12**

Damian was not enjoying the party, not really. Despite it being designed in part by his mother and being culturally appropriate for their class, he was not having fun. Grayson mentioned that this was the public party. The Waynes would be having a real party after everyone was gone, or a real Christmas as he put it. This public party was only being held because it was the Waynes' turn to throw it. Some agreement or another within the elite society. Once the social obligations were done, they could have some real fun.

Yet even the knowledge that all this was just for show couldn't lighten his spirits. Eighteen professional dancers had regaled the audience for an hour with a shortened rendition of the Nutcracker. The Geliefde Ensemble performed during the traditional Christmas banquet, complete with swan and geese centerpieces and as the main course (he even took a few bites, just to see what they tasted like). And now they were expected to dance with the others, all to the musical talents of the band that arrived that morning because of his mother.

Their arrival made his many adoptive siblings break out into howls of laughter. A Germany based group called Zwolf Trommeln. They weren't half bad to tell the truth, but something about them made his predecessors roll on the floor. Grayson officially stated Mother had an amazing sense of humor and it was clear Damian's brains didn't just come from Father.

Yet all this would not cheer him up. Maybe it was because he nibbled on those birds. More than likely it was because he hadn't gone on patrol for the past four nights and was forbidden to go out that night as well. Course Drake and Grayson hadn't gone out lately either. Father was even staying home after the maids appeared, for security reasons. Todd and Cain were there, along with Brown and Gordon, both of them. Thompkins was about as well, along with the Foxs. Nearly everyone associated with the Bat-clan was there that night, and yet he wasn't quite happy.

Getting all these gifts from his mother made him want to see her again, even for a little bit. He swore he saw Kyle there for a while, even dancing with Father, but he hadn't seen her for very long. Likely she left around the same time Todd and Cain disappeared. Grayson, Drake, Brown, and Gordon were going in and out of the crowd, sometimes dancing, sometimes conversing, but they weren't always there. They were helping with security. Only he and Father were forbidden from escaping the party for a moment. The problem with being a proper Wayne was having to keep up appearances.

"Bored yet?"

Damian jerked his head up to see Grayson smiling at him just over his shoulder. They all looked nice in their suits, but he really knew how to look dashing at a party. Every other person said so at least. The kid shrugged. "As if I wasn't before."

This only brought a bigger smile to the man's face. "You're starting to sound like an eleven year old! At last! Progress!"

"What do you want Grayson?" He did not want to deal with the most cheerful person on the face of the planet, not right then at least.

"Just wanted to see if you wanted to ditch this and join the rest of us in the playroom." That won him an odd look. What? "It's past eleven. The party's going to end at midnight officially, but it's pretty much over already. The dancers are getting hammered in the guest house, the pipers left hours ago, and most kids are asleep dreaming of sugarplums by now. The band's winding down for the..."

Dick's voice trailed off as he spotted something he didn't expect. Damian looked at him in confusion for a moment then followed his line of sight. His heart leapt into his throat. His parents were dancing on the floor, both of them. No fighting, barely saying a word to each other. They seemed so... content. At least his mother was.

For a very brief moment he recalled how she disowned him and how she tried to have him killed, but all of it went out the window as he watched the two who gave him life danced together. The last dance. And it was theirs. It was perfect.

"What is she... Damian!" The young man tried to grab his kid brother bit he slipped away from him faster than any Flash, a child running to his mother. He stopped short of actually interrupting them, standing five feet away but watching intently, longing in his face.

His father spotted him first, his lips quirking slightly. "Talia, I believe someone wishes to cut in."

The woman breathed out slowly, sliding out of her beloved's arms reluctantly. Damian could see she didn't really want to leave his father, but did so because he asked her to. It made his heart throb a bit but he kept his face still, like his father. Slowly she spoke to him. "Hello Damian. Have you been well?"

"Well enough Mother. I... I would like to thank you for those gifts you have sent us." Nerves ate within the boy. There was a lot he wanted to say and do in regards to this woman, but right then... "Wou... Would you care to dance?"

Her lips tightened, silently telling him one thing while her eyes said another. She was torn between proper pride and her motherly feelings. He had betrayed her after all, and she him. This wasn't an easy choice for her. Dancing with Father was normal. They used to dance together when she was her father's pawn, why would it be any different now they were officially enemies?

Bruce saw the conflict silently battling within each of them and between them. He put a hand on Talia's shoulder and leaned into her ear. "You have given me many gifts these past twelve days. Damian has accepted each of them in my place when I was not around and he suspected no foul play. Christmas is about family. The least you could do is give him one dance. All will be the same on the twenty-sixth, but just this night, give him the one thing he wants most of all: his mother's love."

His former love looked at him once, the stubbornness leaving her body slowly. She was almost the woman he loved during Damian's conception again. Almost. Too much had happened since to put everything back the way it was. This was just for the holiday. A small smile graced her face, kind and true. She looked back to their son, offering her hand. "Of course my son. But we must hurry. I believe the music will end soon."

"I'll handle the music. Enjoy yourselves," Bruce stated, smiling to his son. Damian's eyes lit up greatly, smiling and looking his age for once in his life. He left the two of them to enjoy their dance and ask the 'twelve drummers' to play just one last piece for him. As a gift for one lonely little boy who could have what the rest of his family couldn't: one last dance with their mother.

* * *

Damian was struggling to stay awake in the 'playroom' where the rest of the bat-clan had gathered. Jason and Cass had ditched early to start a Ping-Pong melee, gear on hand in case Red Hood or Black Bat would be needed down stairs. Tim and Stephanie went back and forth between mingling and dancing at the party to competing with them. Later Dick had gotten Barbara in on it, along with Helena and Selina, plus brought out karaoke for fun. A few other close friends and allies were invited to their fun party, but the majority of them had to get home before the snow settled in too far. Stephanie was going to leave with Barbara 'soon', but it was looking like they'd be staying the night after all.

Everyone was gone downstairs, finally. Bruce and Alfred had finally joined them, one flopping onto the couch next to Damian while the other started serving hot chocolate and marshmallows. Bruce picked up a random holiday book Dick had put on the coffee table earlier that week as cheap Christmas decorations and pulled a sleepy, content Damian against him. _The Polar Express_ was always better if it was shared and the boy didn't object in the slightest to being read to like this. At the end of it he looked up to the cheap tree and decorations the kids had put together. It didn't look too bad, but it was extremely childish. Edible decorations, some falling apart on the tree, it really would not be acceptable to the rest of the Gotham elite. Too bad it was perfect for them.

"Father?"

"Hm?" Hearing Damian's voice, sleepy and childlike, Bruce didn't mind being dragged out of his thoughts. It was rather nice. The others were winding down a bit too, talking and laughing nearby with cocoa in their hands instead of fighting or competing like usual.

"What was so funny about the gifts Mother sent?"

Suddenly everyone stopped talking, looking over to him in surprise. Over the past week they had told him a lot about Christmas, from the elegant parties to the simple ones each of them had. The original Christmas story was told to him along with several commercial made ones and the true history of the holiday. He'd received that look so many times whenever he asked a question that apparently should have been answered when he was little. But this was a question he asked several times earlier and no one answered. He wanted answers.

Bruce sighed, just as the others exchanged laughing looks. Time to give up the joke. "It's because they followed a song."

"A song?"

"It's a song that builds up on itself," he explained.

"But the last verse goes like this," Dick piped in. He had promised to tell him after all, and everyone wanted to be there and help. It was nearly the most annoying carol of the season. He started and they all joined in whenever they wanted to.

_On the twelfth day of Christmas, my true love sent to me-_

_Twelve drummers drumming_

_Eleven pipers piping_

_Ten lords a-leaping_

_Nine ladies dancing_

_Eight maids a-milking_

_Seven swans a-swimming_

_Six geese a-laying_

_Five golden rings!_ (every one of the bat-kids near shouted that part)

_Four calling birds_

_Three French hens_

_Two turtle doves_

_And a partridge in a pear tree!_

Damian just blinked at them all as the majority of them laugh. Even Cass was snickering. She may have had a bad childhood, but she spent a lot more time around people than he did and heard carols often in the past, before meeting Barbara or any Robin. Dick composed himself first, grinning from ear to ear. "Talia sent every single one of those over here for Bruce. We didn't understand why, we just thought it was funny."

"Where are the three French hens?"

The kid's question made him look away, sipping his cocoa in a not so subtle fashion. Jason just laughed and started singing again. "The first day after Christmas, my true love and I had a fight..."

END

* * *

**A/N: **So, that's the twelve days! sorry it's so long. Didn't intend it to go that far. as there are a lot of personal tidbits in this, I'll go through them one at a time.

D1- I strongly believe Damian has had no real holidays or birthdays until coming to Wayne Manor. Likelihood of him getting the 12 days of Christmas joke next to zero.

D2- Dick would catch on fast, and Damian being an animal lover would name them and keep them if he could get away with it. I picked names that'd he would, I think. Willis just came out.

D3- Eating those birds sounded like a good idea, so they had to hide them from Damian. remember bat-cow? Not dissing vegans or vegetarians, I just don't know if a 10 year old will keep at that kind of diet.

D4- Bruce being gone for a few days and discovering his sitting room is now housing birds, then believing Dick's behind it is very reasonable. =P Good thing B catches on fast.

D5- now others are coming in on it. Why send five gold rings? Who knows. Is there a nefarious plot? probably...not.

D6- I'd do this if I got the chance. Geese are silly creatures and I wouldn't want to deal with them. Jason bringing one of those holiday popcorn tins seemed in character too. All three watching in the cave making plans is so them! X3

D7- Okay, fun story. My aunt gave my Grandpa two piglets when they started living in their ranch one Christmas. The intent was to use the ranch as a ranch and for it to have animals. Grandpa was a butcher. I hear they were rather tasty. We still haven't told my aunt or my cousin, but she was real little then (I was two, she's older than me) so I don't think it'd really be remembered anyway. I thought it'd be good material for this one. I mean, come on! What else are you going to do with 13 silly birds in your house and a party coming up?! Jason had target practice.

D8- Maids here were just maids, milking them for money. Jason starting to flirt I thought was fun. and with the new people there, they'd have to be careful about IDs.

D9- If you haven't noticed, Dick's present to Bruce was having all his kids there not trying to kill each other. Since they're all on standby in case Talia was plotting something, nothing was about to divide them. I initially wanted Cass to come by day 8 but I wanted her to come in on her own. Flight delays suck.

D10- I've always wanted to throw popcorn and other things at people while hanging over the railing. I'm not that fond of popcorn, but the Christmas tins are fun. And making decorations like that, I can so see Dick forcing the others to do that while they wait for suspicious persons to make a move.

D11- _Geliefde_ - Dutch for _Beloved._ this is when I had to get creative about things. you had 18 dancers with their manager the past two days, then ten woodwind players with their conductor for the eleven pipers. Could have expanded this, but didn't want to.

D12- _Zwolf Trommeln_ - German for _Twelve Drums._ I intended to end this with a party and the batkids to sing the last verse from the beginning, but the sweet scene with Talia at the end was unintentional. I just felt at the end that it was for the best. Everything came together at the end of it all. Damian was able to have both his parents together without a fight for once and had one evening when his mother was just his mother. After that his father cuddled with him and the joke was revealed. Growing up we had two parts to Christmas, Religious (Eve) and Fun (Day). Here I had it kinda the same, formal and fun. The party for others was formal. Their thing after was not, and therefore fun. Their cheap Christmas thing was something I just came up with for no real reason except to keep their hands busy earlier. One tradition my family had though that I loved was that every Christmas Eve Dad would have us all around him and he'd read us _the Polar Express_. We were usually sleepy and my dad's always a big cuddly guy when he reads to us, so it was always precious to me. After that we went to bed.

The twelve days after christmas is also a real song I heard in high school. youtube it some time. ;] Merry Christmas!


End file.
